


A Motley Crew, A Circus Show

by AngelWithAStory



Series: M. Mercer Properties [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Critical Role: Wildemount Campaign (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Day drinking, Domestic Fluff, Mild Language, Multi, One Shot Collection, Sequel, Team as Family, Trans Characters, fluff for days, hints of angst to come, no one is straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: Voices echoed off the stairwell walls as twin footsteps made their way up. Beau paused where she stood and watched curiously as two figures appeared on the landing ahead of her.Her muscles were already starting to ache from lifting boxes and suitcases all day and she really couldn’t wait to be done so they could order some food in and crash out on their newly unpacked mattresses.The two newcomers were definitely a welcome change of pace.A collection of one-shots following a modern Mighty Nein





	1. Curious Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY HELL ITS HAPPENING
> 
> so when I updated Life is No Cabaret for the first time in forever, I asked if people would be interested in seeing a similar thing for the M9. turns out people _do_ like that idea, so I'm glad I already have some chapters outlined  <3
> 
> Here we go again, I guess :D
> 
> Title from Family by Mother Mother

_“All I’m saying is that it’s important you take your work seriously.”_

_“I had a chance to work another shift at Pumat’s shop, Caleb! We need the money!”_

_“You need to get an education."_

Voices echoed off the stairwell walls as twin footsteps made their way up. Beau paused where she stood and watched curiously as two figures appeared on the landing ahead of her.

Her muscles were already starting to ache from lifting boxes and suitcases all day and she really couldn’t wait to be done so they could order some food in and crash out on their newly unpacked mattresses.

The two newcomers were definitely a welcome change of pace.

One of them was a man - older than her, paler, scruffy-looking, ginger - and the other was a younger girl - a little scruffy-looking, little bit of green in her hair, teenage, backpack on one shoulder, younger sister, maybe? - and both of them stopped when they saw Beau.

“Sup.” Beau said, lifting a hand lazily as a greeting. She wasn’t _super_ hyped about meeting new people while she was sweaty and unkempt and just generally in a shit mood. She also wasn’t super happy that Jester and Fjord were grabbing the last of the boxes from the van and _not there_.

“Hello.” The man said. He had an accent that pulled at his words, and if Beau cared just a _little_ more, maybe she could have identified it. He nodded at the open door and the boxes just outside of it, “I take it you’re the new tenant.”

Beau took a moment to appraise the pair, thinking about how bitchy it would be to ignore them. But Fjord’s voice had already begun bitching at her in the back of her head, so that probably wasn’t the best plan.

“Sorta, yeah.” Beau said, _desperately_ hoping that these two weren’t going to be that kind of overly-friendly neighbour, “I’m moving in with two friends.”

“That’s good.” The man said awkwardly.

The girl had already brushed past him and was walking along towards one of the only other doors on this floor. A set of keys jingled quietly in her hand as she walked, but that was the only sound she made.

Beau found herself silently praying for either Jester or Fjord to appear and save her from this awkward conversation.

“My name’s Caleb Widogast,” He said, reaching out and extending a hand towards her, “my little friend here is Nott.”

“Not what?” Beau asked. She did shake Caleb’s hand - she may be an arsehole, but Caleb was just trying to be nice - but that didn’t stop her from wanting this conversation over as soon as possible.

“Just Nott.” The girl piped up, suddenly appearing at Caleb’s side again. Her backpack had disappeared and now that Beau was closer, she could see some kind of bandana tied around Nott’s neck that she was fiddling with nervously. It looked like it might have the bottom half of a face printed on it.

Beau _almost_ wanted to pry further, but luckily she was saved by Fjord choosing that moment to stumble out of the stairwell. He was carrying a box with the word ‘ _kitchen_ ’ and a cute little illustration of someone making pancakes adorning the side.

It looked like he was struggling, so Beau rushed forwards to take the other side. The box wasn’t all that heavy, but Fjord’s muscles were all for show and Beau didn’t really want him to drop all their crockery.

“ _Thanks,_ ” Fjord muttered, groaning a little as Beau took the box from him and set it down.

He blinked in surprise at the two unfamiliar faces, but a charming smile quickly replaced it. Even slightly sweaty, in an old shirt and his hair a mess, Fjord still managed to pull himself together enough to reach out a hand towards them. (Beau almost envied his natural charisma. Just not enough to do anything about it.)

“I don’t think we’ve have the pleasure of meeting yet. Name’s Fjord.” He said, smiling easy and letting his accent put a pleasant twang on his words. “This here’s Beau, and our friend that’s just coming up the stairs now is Jess but she likes to be called Jester.”

Caleb shook Fjord’s hand. Beau only really cared when she saw how Caleb seemed to both shrink into himself and lean into the greeting. It was a subtle thing, but she knew that it would be fun to tease Fjord about the look on both their faces.

“Caleb. Widogast.” Caleb said, stumbling just a little over his words. Beau tried to catch Fjord’s eye but he wasn’t playing.

“Caleb,” Fjord repeated, nodding once like he was committing the name to memory. He turned his attention to Nott and held out his hand again, “and you are?” He asked.

“Nott.” Nott waited a second before quickly shaking Fjord’s hand, letting her hands fiddle with a thin chain around her wrist. “Just Nott.”

Fjord smiled, but he glanced at Caleb to make sure.

“Nott. That’s a lovely name.” Fjord said. Nott smiled shyly, but still a little weary. “So, you two live here?”

“ _Ja_ , we live just down the hallway.” Caleb said, pointing vaguely towards his front door.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but his attention was stolen away by a third person’s loud voice announcing her presence.

“This is the last of them!” The person said - more _sang,_ actually - hefting a large box and setting it down on the ground. Beau was so used to Jesters _Jester-ness_ , that seeing the slightly bewildered look on Caleb and Nott’s face nearly put her on the defensive. Then she took a second to think about how this loud, blue-haired and dressed, awkward and freckly lady would look to someone who lived a quiet life.

Their expressions were probably very much warranted, in all fairness.

“Caleb, Nott, this is Jester.” Fjord introduced, awkwardly clearing his throat.

Without prompt, Jester stuck her hand out towards Caleb, beaming at him. It took him a second, but Caleb _did_ shake her hand. That obviously earned him a few points of goodwill.

Nott was just as apprehensive when she shook Jester’s hand, but something in her body language was much warmer than Caleb’s reservedness.

“What’s that stain on your shirt?” Jester asked, turning her attention back towards Caleb. She was blunt, and that seemed to catch him off guard.

“I- excuse me?” Caleb seemed more confused than offended, but still Beau saw Fjord shift uncomfortably.

“There’s a stain on your shirt,” Jester repeated, now pointing at the offending stain.

“Oh that,” Caleb said, looking down at it, “that’s just ink.”

“Are these people bothering you, Caleb?” Yet _another_ new voice said. This one sounded amused and just a little cocky.

(Beau was beginning to get a sinking feeling that the neighbours in this building actually _talked_ to each other).

The owner of the voice was a man leaning against his own door frame. His clothes were a little gaudy and he had a lot of gold piercings in his ears. The shirt he was wearing had a low neckline and there were multiple tattoos very clearing on display. If that wasn’t enough, he was also holding a glass of wine.

Beau _instantly_ disliked him.

“They’re our new neighbours, Molly.” Nott said.

“I was wondering when that place would be filled.” Molly said idly. He subtly began to hide the glass of wine, but he didn’t try _that_ hard.

“Is Yasha back, then?” Caleb asked, nodding towards Molly and the glass of wine.

“She’s back tonight, actually.” Molly said, a wicked smile on his face. Beau let herself glance at Fjord. “You’re welcome to join in the celebration.”

“Do you still owe me a drink?” Caleb asked.

“I don’t see why not. You still owe me a story.” Molly said, taking a sip of his wine. He looked over the three newest tenants with a slightly appraising look.

Evidently, he liked what he saw in them because the wicked smile grew a little bit.

“You three are also welcome to join.” Molly said.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced, my name’s-” Fjord said, putting a fair bit of charm into his voice.

“I’m Jester!” Jester had moved quickly to stand in front of Molly. He barely flinched with Jester’s loud voice - in fact, it only made him more amused.

“And it is _wonderful_ to meet you, Jester.” Molly said, defly shaking Jester’s hand and kissing the palm of her hand. Caleb met Nott’s eye and Nott’s shoulders shook with a little, suppressed laugh.

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Jester proclaimed. “That’s Fjord, and that’s Beau.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Mollymauk, and I sincerely hope you will join us this evening for drinks and celebration in the Leaky Tap.” Molly said, a thick theatrical air around him.

“We may well join you, if that’s alright.” Fjord said, a small smile on his face. He was beginning to feel a little at-home while they chatted with their new neighbours.

“Well shit, I’m down to get drunk tonight.” Beau said, shrugging.

“I’d say that’s a plan then.” Molly said, lifting his glass in a mock toast.

Beau watched as Jester continued to chat animatedly with this Mollymauk guy. He seemed a little shifty, but so did the entire neighbourhood. And Jester practically seemed to vibrate when Nott mentioned something about fortune telling, honestly, Beau tuned out at that point. She was more focussed on the conversation she was meant to be a part of between Caleb and Fjord.

Something about the whole situation… it didn’t feel _entirely_ shitty. And maybe Beau could get used to that.


	2. A Drink on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey uh, I know it's been a couple months since i've updated this, and in my defence, it's been a shit of a year for both me and globally. I've only just polished up this chapter and gotten my motivation back to actually write things. 
> 
> Here's to keeping that up, I guess.

The pub they liked to frequent was terrible. Objectively, it was terrible.

But Caleb and Nott liked to go because the bartenders turned a blind eye when Caleb would order a drink and pass it along to his young friend, and every so often, they’d place three drinks in front of him, waving off any talk of money.

Molly and Yasha liked it because it was cheap, and off the beaten path, and occasionally stray whispers would reach their ears and _oh_ wasn’t that always a delight.

Jester liked it because there was usually a few older gents who would be sat deep into a game of cards, and she would always sit with them and play for a few rounds.

Beau liked to get drunk. The shitty pub sold strong alcohol. That was pretty much all that needed to be said.

Fjord didn’t really mind it; he was more glad that it was close to their apartment. At least they wouldn’t get lost when they were stumbling back late into the night.

At least that’s what Fjord told himself, sitting between Molly and Jester, nursing a glass of firewhiskey.

The atmosphere was cosy enough, and he liked the dim music that was playing from some hidden speaker. The carpets were a bit threadbare in places, and there were a couple stains ingrained into the wood of the tables. Jester looked _incredibly_ out of place with her in-fashion clothes and expensive-looking jewellery, but she didn’t let that stop her.

Beau fit in. Alarmingly well.

(Fjord tried not to dwell on that too much.)

But the three of them were still new to the area, and still _relatively_ new to each other.

Maybe reaching out to some of the locals wasn’t a terrible idea.

“So,” Fjord said, turning a little towards Mollymauk, “how long have you two lived in the building?”

“Not that long,” Molly said, running his finger down the side of his glass as he thought, “a few weeks, or so. Caleb and Nott have lived there longer. I suppose you three are new to the area?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact.” Fjord shifted slightly in his chair. His eyes flickered to Caleb and Nott, and then to the two whiskey’s placed in front of them, “Grew up along the Menagerie Coast, same as Jester.”

Molly’s gaze followed Fjord’s for just a second, but he didn’t say anything.

“I don’t think I’ve travelled that far south, what’s it like?” Molly asked. He leaned forwards and rested his head on his propped-up hand, cocking his head just a little to the side. Fjord was beginning to get the sneaking feeling that Molly always just was this flirty.

“Oh, are you talking about the Menagerie Coast?” Jester asked, suddenly breaking free of her conversation to chip into someone else’s. It would be annoying if it wasn’t a little endearing.

“Yes, I was just saying that I’ve never travelled there,” Molly said, directing his attention towards Jester now.

“So you’ve travelled a lot?” Fjord asked, well-versed in the art of not letting Jester distract from the conversation.

“Oh Yasha and I have travelled all over the Empire.” Molly said, a tad flippantly. “Some places outside too.”

“That’s really cool!” Jester said, her eyes lighting up a little.

“Well, we were a part of a travelling circus, so it came with the territory.” Molly said.

“Travelling circus?” Fjord repeated, glancing up at Yasha.

“Oooohh! What did you do? Were you a performer? Were you _both_ performers?” Jester asked, her excitement clear in every aspect of her.

“Oh no, we weren’t performers. Yasha was security and I read fortunes.” Molly said, pulling a pack of cards out of _nowhere_.

Then Jester’s eyes got really wide and Molly had a grin on his face, and Fjord insisted that he switch seats with Jester because he had a feeling that they were going to forget about him real soon and he _really_ didn’t want to be caught up in all that.

Unfortunately, that put him next to Caleb.

(Unfortunately was the wrong word, but Fjord didn’t know if he could handle another awkward conversation.)

“You’re a student?”

The voice belonged to Caleb, and Fjord hated how his heart dropped just a little. Small talk with no ulterior motive or end goal wasn’t high up on Fjord’s list of favourite things.

“Well, kinda. Not yet. I’m just working right now to save up some money, and I’m starting the next semester.” Fjord said. He turned his body very slightly to face Caleb. “What about you? You seem very studious.”  

“Oh, no. I work in the library.” Caleb said quietly, tucking his slightly ratty cardigan around himself as he spoke, “You’ll probably see me a lot then, once you start attending lectures.”

“I suppose I will.” Fjord said, taking another sip of his drink. Then, a thought occurred to him and he shifted just a little closer. “Look, I don’t want to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted, and the last thing I want to do is to make y’all uncomfortable, but uh… What’s the deal between you and Nott? Is she your sister? Your cousin?”

“She is my roommate.” Caleb answered easily, almost leaving no room for argument. “We have lived together for a very long now. I consider her my family, but there is no blood relation.” He added, stealing away that room for doubt.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“ _Nein_ , it’s a valid question.” Caleb waved away the apology, though his shoulders were still a little tense. “If it is alright, I have one of my own.”

“Well, shoot. Ask away,” Fjord said. He leaned back in his chair, but not away from Caleb. He wanted to look relaxed, even though his heart was just a _touch_ fast, and the skin on his forearms felt like it might start sparking.

“What is your relationship with the blue one?” Caleb asked, nodding towards Jester good-naturedly.  There was nothing in his posture or his words that could have tipped Fjord off, but still, Fjord felt the tipping point. That thin line between _possible_ and _impossible_.

But he didn’t know what that meant, yet.

“We’re friends.” Fjord answered, honestly. “We’re both from the Menagerie Coast, and we met a little while ago. Both needed a change of pace, so we headed out together. Came across Beau a little bit into that, and the three of us have stuck together since. They’re like the annoying little sisters I wanted as a kid.”

“And now?”

“Well I’d never say I regretted meeting them.” Fjord said, honestly. Caleb smiled at that and Fjord felt his heart rate tick upwards, just for a moment. Then he switched topics and started asking Caleb about the area.

For small talk, Fjord found it was pretty agreeable to just talk with Caleb. Nice even.

Later, when their little group was walking back to their apartments, Beau gently knocked her shoulder against Fjord’s. He blinked down at her, getting ready to catch her if she stumbled too hard. (Beau rarely stumbled when she was drunk, but Fjord was always aware of the _possibility_.)

“So you and Caleb seemed like you were getting a little cosy.” She said, keeping her voice light, but that was mostly just the alcohol. If Beau was truly sober, she would have made a sexual remark by now.

“About as cosy as you were with Yasha.” Fjord shot back, feeling the buzz of firewhiskey in his veins and feeling brave because of it.

“That we were. That, we were.” Beau agreed. She had a slow and dopey smile on her face. Following some long, forgotten impulse of camaraderie, Fjord slung his arm around Beau’s shoulder and quickly ruffled what hair she had left. Laughing, she pushed him away and punched his ribs for good measure. Not enough to cause some damage, but still with a Beau-Playful level of force. He’d have a bruise and a hangover, come the morning, but that was a small price to pay for whatever this little group was shaping up to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this wasn't meant to be a direct continuation of the last chapter, but I guess it turned out that way so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. Come One, Come All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought about putting off this chapter for a few more days, but i thought again bc i left you guys hanging for a couple months while i got my shit together so i want to put more chapters into this fic while i'm still motivated to <3
> 
> this chapter is heavily mollymauk-focused bc i began writing it before my exams and I liked it too much to just scrap it after recent events. not meant to be angsty but its just a whole heap of molly character study
> 
> only possible warning for this chapter is burns, and a chunk of it revolves around Caleb's PTSD and "empty"-state that we've seen a couple times (about halfway through the chapter)

One of the nice things about having neighbours - at least in Molly’s opinion - was the sense of community. Granted, it depended entirely on _who_ your neighbours were, and how much they kept to themselves, but Molly still found himself a little charmed by the quiet man and the young girl who lived across the hall from him.

That was the main reason why he had no problem letting her into his home when Caleb was working late.

(He would never admit to some of the smaller reasons, _especially_ ones that were named ‘ _Toya_ ’.)

Their arrangement wasn’t because Nott (bit of a strange name for a young girl, but probably no stranger than _Mollymauk Tealeaf,_ of all names) wasn’t capable of being alone for a few hours until Caleb returned, not in the slightest.

No, their arrangement only came around when Molly caught Nott trying to pick the lock to one of the other apartment doors. _That_ had been an interesting conversation. Even more interesting to know that it wasn’t even the first time she’d done that, out of sheer boredom, she claimed.

Still, the arrangement worked and it meant that Nott couldn’t be caught by someone a lot less forgiving than Molly. It also meant that Molly could pass on a little trickery wisdom while he was meant to be making sure she was doing her homework.

Honestly, Molly liked Nott. She was funny, somehow naïve and wise at the same time, and he liked teaching her a card trick and watching her try and figure out how the trick was done.

Mollymauk Tealeaf was used to big families and ever-present noise and senseless bickering that went nowhere.

Which was lucky, because Jester was very noisy and Beau was a perfect person to bicker with.

It took Jester less than a week to catch on to fact that Nott would knock on Molly’s door every afternoon, and it took her less than an hour to _also_ knock on Molly’s door and playfully demand to be part of the fun.

She didn’t expect Molly to open the door and let her in, if the split-second shock on her face was anything to go by.

None of them expected to get on as well as they did, but only Nott seemed a little nervous of that mini-revelation (though she was nervous of everything, poor girl).

Caleb _certainly_ didn’t expect to walk in on the three of them enacting some elaborate scene that Jester was narrating where Nott was the Heroine of the tale, and Molly was the villain, putting on ridiculous, rasping voices as he spoke. It was a carefully tailored act to make the two girls laugh.

(Molly wished desperately that he had been able to capture the look on Caleb’s face at that moment.)

Neighbours were always fun.

_Especially_ the weird ones.

And so far, all the neighbours Mollymauk had run into had been weird in some way. Even if it took a little while, the oddities always came out.

Caleb’s had come out one night, not too long after the duo had moved in. Molly couldn’t remember what he had been doing - if it had even been important - but he did remember when Nott knocked on his door and grabbed his hand. She looked distressed, so Molly didn’t say a word as she pulled him towards her door and led him to their small kitchen.

Caleb was sat in the corner of the room, eyes unfocused, with shaking just a little as his hands wrapped around himself. The stove was off, but one of the pans was still steaming so it must have been hot still.

Molly had seen that look on Caleb’s face before. He’d seen it on his own face in a mirror more times that he wanted to admit. It broke his heart a little to see it on someone else’s.

Slowly, like trying to pacify a wild animal, Molly stepped forwards and crouched down in front of Caleb. He didn’t touched Caleb, but he held his hand out between them anyway. Not entering his space, just… in case Caleb wanted some contact.

“Caleb,” Molly kept his voice gentle, but present enough to be grounding, “what happened, Caleb?”

But Caleb didn’t speak. Instead, he just reached out and gripped Molly’s hand tight enough to hurt.

Molly only squeezed his hand back.

“Caleb, do you want to talk?” Molly asked.

Caleb shook his head, _no_. His breathing was still a little heavy and erratic, but it was slowing incrementally.  

“That’s okay.” Molly said, ignoring the pain in his hand, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Caleb’s grip loosened ever so slightly but his other hand unwound itself from his middle and Molly could see the shiny red patch of skin that showed it had been burned. And it looked recent.

“Did this just happen?” Molly asked, tilting his head towards the injury.

Caleb nodded.

“Okay,” Molly nodded as well, and thought through his words for a moment, “Caleb, we need to clean that injury, okay? We need to run it under cold water for a while. Can you make it to the sink?”

Caleb didn’t move for a moment. But then, finally he nodded and Molly helped him stand.

Molly asked no questions about the _why_. He could roughly guess the _how_ (an accident while cooking that maybe had unpleasant memories attached), and he didn’t need to know any more than that to clean the burn, wrap it up and quietly order food for the three of them.

The next day, Caleb tried to apologise, but Molly wouldn’t take it. Neither of them brought it up again, and the rare time when Caleb’s eyes would unfocus and Nott couldn’t get through to him and she would grab Molly by the hand and lead him away, it was never treated as something to make a fuss off.

It was just another small, strange of their small, strange existence.

Yasha’s weirdness manifested the first time they’d experienced a storm. It had been back when the circus was their life, and Mollymauk was still waiting for the empty look in his eye to fade completely and Yasha barely talked about anything other than work and Toya was trying her very best to coax both of them out into the light.

The thunder was making it hard for Mollymauk to sleep and the rain against his caravan did nothing to help. So he spent a couple hours staring at the ceiling, before he realised that the other bed was empty.

The small shock of fear that he was _alone_ drove him out of the warmth of his thin sheets to the main room, only pausing to wrap his cover around his shoulders. Somewhere deep inside his soul, he understood that he shouldn’t have been scared, but that didn’t stop his shoulders slumping in relief when he saw Yasha’s silhouette in the doorway of the front door. She was sat on the top step that lead to their modest living space, her face tilted up as she stared at the lightning-streaked clouds.

Yasha barely turned her head as Molly carefully sat down beside her. It was a tight squeeze for the two of them in the thin doorway, but neither complained. Mollymauk adjusted his cover so it covered the both of them and rested his head on Yasha’s shoulder. It hadn’t taken very long for everyone to realise that Mollymauk Tealeaf was a cuddly bastard, and he was one of the very few people that could get away with being that way towards Yasha at this point. It made him feel special.

The two of them sat in silence for a long while; listening to the rain as it hit the grass metal roof above them, watching the lightning illuminate the sky, counting the seconds under the distant roll of thunder.

“It’s getting nearer.” Yasha remarked, mostly to herself. Molly shivered and shuffled a little closer as he felt Yasha’s arm wrap around his shoulder to pull him closer.

“This is my first.” Molly said quietly. His throat felt raw, like every other time he had spoken after hours of silence. Yet still, it grew stronger each day.

“Your first storm?” Yasha asked, not looking away from the sky. Molly nodded his head against her shoulder, “You’ve never seen a storm before?” She repeated, just a tint of disbelief in her voice.

“Not that I remember.”

The sky lit up and faded just as quickly. Molly lifted his arm and traced where the path of lightning had been with his finger. He glanced at Yasha and saw a small smile on her lips.

“I love stormy nights.” Yasha said quietly. It was rare for her to willingly part with personal information, and Molly understood that. One slip of the tongue around the wrong person and a sweet girl from an enemy nation could land herself in a deep pit of trouble. Or so Molly had heard.

“Me too.”

Yasha’s shoulders shook for a moment with laughter, and when she settled, she rested her head on top of Molly’s. They both sat until the storm passed, just watching the clouds. Not a word passed between them, but that was just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> molly songs to listen to and feel kinda sad: Dying in LA and This is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco, Dead Man Walking by the Script, I Will Be Back One Day and In the Wind by Lord Huron (who I still hold as my go-to for all songs critrole)


	4. First Rule of Hospitality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ......  
>  I got nothing

Beau was tired. And bruised. And just fucking, bone-deep _exhausted_.

And worst of all, she’d locked herself out.

Once, Jester had playfully called her a walking disaster, and Beau had been hurt (not that she showed it, really). But now, as Beau stood in front of her door with the sinking realisation that her key was still in her _other_ jeans’ pocket in their shared bathroom, she thought that _disaster_ was a pretty good descriptor, really. Still, it wasn’t like Beau had been locked out before.

With a disgruntled huff, Beau dropped her backpack, crouched down and pulled her old lockpicks out from the depths of her bag. She was more out of practice than she realised, but still, those old skills came flooding back easily enough.

“You look like shit.”

Beau’s muscles tensed at the new voice, but she relaxed as soon as her brain caught up. Yasha. Just Yasha.

“Feel it too.” Beau admitted, standing up and tucking away the lockpicks before Yasha could see. She held her backpack loosely by her side.

But Yasha’s gaze was more focused on the bruises than on Beau’s questionable skills. For a tense few seconds, they sized each other up, silently waiting for the other to make the first move.

“I thought you were Nott.” Yasha finally says, stepping back into her apartment, leaving the door open. Beau frowned for a second, not moving from where she stood in front of her door.

After a few seconds of trying to decode what the fuck had just happened, Yasha appeared at the door again.

“Are you not coming in?” She asked, innocently puzzled.

“Oh, you were inviting me in?” Beau asked.

“Was that not obvious?” Yasha shot back, stepping back into the apartment and this time, Beau followed.

Molly and Yasha’s apartment was strange in that it was somehow both plain and ostentatious in its decor. The walls were plain (even though the landlord didn’t prohibit wallhanging decorations as long as you had permission) but the furniture was a cocktail of strange fabrics and odd prints and muted colours. The sofa had a heavy, hand-crocheted quilt draped over it that was made from roughly twenty different brightly-coloured yarns and looked well loved. A few articles of clothing were strewn about and shoes were left on the floor from where they’d just been kicked off and left. To Beau’s surprise, there were quite a few vases of all kinds of flowers dotted around the apartment.

Yasha had lead Beau into their little kitchen and handed her a drink she’d taken from the fridge. Beau had been too wrapped up in judging the interior decorations to notice until the cold glass had tapped against her exposed bicep. That shocked her enough to turn to Yasha and finally accept the drink.

“Thanks.” Beau said, taking a sip. She felt awkward being here alone with Yasha but Yasha didn’t seem to mind.

“We used to keep lilies, but they’re not good for Frumpkin.” Yasha said, looking at the same vases Beau was gazing at a moment before.

“Who’s Frumpkin?” Beau asked, absently pulling herself up onto one of the kitchen counters like she usually did in her own home. As soon as she did it, Beau realised the action was a bit too familiar but Yasha barely batted an eye so Beau figured she was used to overly-familiar people.

“Caleb’s cat. You haven’t seen him yet?” Yasha said, taking a drink.

_"Well that explains why Fjord’s started sneezing.”_ Beau muttered. “How come Caleb gets to have a cat?”

“The landlord gave his okay when they moved in. Special circumstances, you know?” Yasha said. Beau didn’t know, but she thought better of bringing it up. Some shit should just stay in the past.

They drank in silence for a few moments. Beau definitely felt it should be more awkward than it ended up being, but she refused to let herself get too comfy with that knowledge.

“What did you mean you ‘thought I was Nott’?” Beau asked, resting her bottle on the counter beside her.

“She had a habit of picking locks.” Yasha wasn’t in the business of sharing other people’s private business, but even then Beau would like a few more answers. She was nosy, not a gossip.

“Uh huh.” Beau said, just to say something. “How long have you lived here?”

“Six months, give or take.” Yasha said. She’d finished her drink already and was tying up her hair in preparation to start cooking.

Beau happily watched as Yasha started pulling ingredients and pots out of cupboards before gathering a few things from the fridge. It wasn’t a fully domestic scene, but it was comfortable how at ease Yasha felt in Beau’s company.

“How did you get those bruises?” Yasha asked suddenly. The look in her eye was strangely intense and questions suddenly _burned_ in Beau’s throat. Instead, she finished her drink.

“I found a MMA club a couple days after we moved in. Seemed a better alternative than picking random fights and getting kicked out of bars.” Beau answered, dipping her toes in the truth. There was still a lot she wanted to keep close to the chest.

“Did you win?” Yasha asked, seemingly sated with that answer. (Maybe Yasha just knew when to stop probing too deeply.) Beau idly wondered what answer she was expecting.

“I wouldn’t say I _won_ ,” Beau said, adding a cocky flair to her posture, “because I _lost_. But at least they got bruised to shit back.”

“Impressive.” Yasha said, and Beau tried not to preen at the genuine tone.  

Beau’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she quickly checked the screen. A text. From Fjord.

**_I just got in, you not at home?_ **

Beau didn’t sigh, but she did let out a breath of air as she read it. Yasha looked up from the pan, a quietly curious look on her face.

“Fjord’s home.” Beau said, as if that answered some unsaid question. She slipped off the counter, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Thanks for, uh, letting me hang out here, Yasha.”

“It was no problem. Molly and I are used to unusual company.” Yasha said, taking the pan off the heat so she could see her guest out. “People are welcome any time.”

“I guess I’ll keep that in mind.” Beau said, letting Yasha open the door for her and stepping out into the hall. “Think you might wanna join my fight club with me?” She asked, a sudden image of an imaginary spar flitting through her mind.

“I- I will think about it, Beau.” Yasha promised, a ghost of a smile on her lips as Beau walked the short distance to her own front door.

Yasha watched as Beau slipped into the apartment opposite, letting the _click_ of the lock hang in the air for a moment more. Then, Yasha stepped back and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still have ideas for this but i guess if life's going to keep kicking my ass like this, then i'm going to have to kick it back

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I'm [queenmoggy](http://queenmoggy.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, so feel free to swing by any time B)
> 
> disclaimer: these chapters will be stress relief and for funsies (i'm in uni with exams coming up so free time may be a little few and far between). also I'm British and that tends to be the cultures I gravitate to with language and settings, so lets see how it goes <3


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